


Someone's Son

by LibraryMage



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Autistic Character, Autistic Ezra Bridger, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6116140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a long time, Kanan has thought of Ezra as his son, but until now, he's never said it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone's Son

Ezra winced as he slowly made his way up the _Ghost’s_ ramp, Sabine by his side, carefully watching in case he needed help.  His injuries weren’t nearly bad enough to need her assistance, but after being separated for nearly three hours by the Stormtroopers that had caught them, she wasn’t about to let him out of her sight until they were safely home.

“Ezra!” he heard Kanan’s voice a split second before the man pulled him into a tight embrace.

Ezra laughed.  “Scared you, huh?” he asked.

“You could say that,” Kanan muttered.

“I’m fine, Kanan,” Ezra said.  “Really.”

“I know, son,” Kanan said.  “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Ezra wrenched himself out of Kanan’s arms as though he’d been burned by his master’s touch.  A storm of emotions crashed in his mind.  Anger, shocked disbelief, other things Kanan had no name for.  Kanan immediately realized his mistake.

“Ezra –”

“You’re not my father,” Ezra said quietly.

“Ezra, I didn’t – ”

But it was too late.  Ezra was already gone.

Kanan mentally kicked himself.  He didn’t even know what had possessed him to say that.  It had been less than two weeks since they’d found out Ezra’s parents had died.  The last thing the kid needed was to think anyone was trying to take the place of his family.

He told himself he’d fix it.  He just had no idea how.  Yet.  But Ezra would need time to cool down first, which gave him time to come up with a plan to talk to the kid.

* * *

When Kanan knocked, Ezra opened the door but said nothing.

“Can we talk?” Kanan asked.  Ezra remained silent.  It wasn’t exactly an invitation to keep talking, but it wasn’t a refusal, either.

“I’m sorry,” Kanan said.  “I know you’re still hurting over your parents and that was – I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Then why did you?” Ezra asked.

“Because –” Kanan paused.  How could he say this without upsetting the kid again?  He spoke slowly, choosing his words with care.  “Because it was an instinct.  I’ve thought of you as my son for a long time.  And I know that now is a bad time to say it, right after you found out about your parents, but it’s true.”

A moment of silence passed between them as Kanan waited for some kind of response – _any_ response – from Ezra.  Finally, Ezra spoke.

“You’re a Jedi,” he said, stepping around Kanan into the hallway.  “How could you possibly know how to be a father?”

Kanan didn’t have an answer.  As he watched Ezra walk away, an uneasy feeling crept through his mind.

“Maybe you’re right, kid,” he whispered.

“He’s not,” he heard Hera’s voice from behind him.  He turned to see her leaning against the wall.

“I never had parents,” Kanan said.  “How am I supposed to know how to be one?”

Hera crossed the hall to stand in front of him.

“So the Jedi didn’t teach you how to be a parent,” she said.  “Big deal.  My parents didn’t teach me that either.  My kids – _our_ kids, they taught us that.  You’re still a great father.”

He didn’t need to say anything for her to know what he was thinking as the glanced in the direction Ezra had gone.

“He’s in too much pain to let himself see that,” she said.  “He just found out his parents died.  He’s angry at the whole universe, and that anger has nowhere to go, so he’s lashing out at you.  But whether he’s ready to admit it or not, he needs all of us now more than ever.  Including you.”

Kanan sighed.  “You know, just once I wish you would give me advice bad enough to ignore,” he told her.

“I know,” she said.  She reached out and gave her friend’s shoulder a quick squeeze before heading into the cockpit.

Kanan stared after her.  She had to be right.  If anyone knew how to be a parent, it was Hera.  But doubt still filled his mind.  Hera’s childhood on Ryloth hadn’t been normal by any means, but she’d known her parents.  In spite of the war and the fight against the Empire, she hadn’t grown up in a life where attachment was dangerous and love, even between people as close as a master and padawan, was something you had to let go of.

The door across from him slid open to reveal Sabine standing behind it.

“She’s right, you know,” she said.

“Does everyone on this ship just eavesdrop on everyone else?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sabine said matter-of-factly.  “You haven’t figured that out yet?  Zeb’s probably listening right now.”

“No I’m not,” a muffled voice came from the opening to the turret gun, where Zeb was trying to repair some of the damage done during their most recent run-in with a group of TIE fighters.

Sabine gestured toward the opening.  “See?” she said.

She closed the gap between them and pulled him into a hug, which he gladly returned.  She had to stand on her toes to whisper in his ear.

“You’re doing a great job, _Buir_.  With all of us.”

With that, she retreated back into her room, leaving a slightly stunned Kanan alone in the hall.

* * *

Kanan searched the  _Ghost_ twice before concluding that Ezra was no longer on the ship.  If you asked Hera, she would say that his extra thoroughness was just a way to delay talking to Ezra and buy himself time to figure out exactly what to say.  She would be right.

Kanan found Ezra sitting on a ridge about half a kilometer from the ship, staring out over the plains of Lothal but not really seeing them.  His mind was somewhere else entirely.

“Ezra,” Kanan said, sitting down beside him, but keeping a good distance between them.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Ezra said quietly.

“Then just listen,” Kanan said.  “Please.”  He took Ezra’s lack of a response as permission to continue.  “I know I’m not your father.  And I would never, ever try to replace him.  But son or not, you’re my family, and you’re my padawan.  I’m always going to care about you.”

After a long moment, Ezra finally looked at him.

“Kanan,” he said.  “What I said before, about – about how you couldn’t know how to be a father.  I didn’t mean it.  Not really.”

“I know,” Kanan said, gently resting a hand on his padawan’s shoulder.

“Because –” Ezra stopped then forced himself to push forward before he lost his nerve.  “Because you _have_ been like a father to me, ever since you started training me.  But I keep wondering what my parents would say about that.”

“Ezra, you’re not betraying them by finding another family,” Kanan said.

“I know,” Ezra muttered.  “I _know_ , it’s just –”

His shoulders drooped.  “Does it ever get easier?” he asked.

“I was a Jedi,” Kanan said.  “How would I know?”

The tiniest of smiles twitched across Ezra’s face for about half a second.

“Come on,” Kanan said, standing up and holding out his hand to Ezra.  “Let’s go home.  I’m sure Hera’s found some catastrophe we need to save the system from by now.”

Ezra stood and as the two of them began their trek back to the _Ghost_ Kanan tentatively put an arm around Ezra’s shoulders.

“It does get easier,” Kanan said.  “Eventually.”

“Thanks,” Ezra said.  A brief silence passed between them before Ezra spoke again.

“I’m not calling you ‘dad,’” he said.

“Never thought you would, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> "buir" is the Mando'a word for "mother" or "father" (Mando'a is a gender-neutral language, so the same word is used regardless of gender)


End file.
